


Good Girls

by hydratedbarnes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Come Eating, Creampie, F/M, Nipple Play, Older Man/Younger Woman, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydratedbarnes/pseuds/hydratedbarnes
Summary: Call him traditional, but Professor Isaac believes good girls deserve rewards, but what does that mean for you?
Relationships: Oscar Isaac/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a self-indulgent fanfic for my friend, i don’t usually write real people stories so this was a little weird to write but here it is anyways

“Can you stay for a minute?”

The words are simple as that. Six tiny little syllables falling so heavenly from his mouth, it causes your heart to race at the call. 

With your eyes wide and blown with surprise, you turn subtly on your heel, but it’s enough to cause your dress to twirl around your body, showing him but a glimpse of your legs. 

You gulp at the sight of your professor.

Those very same lips that had wrapped around your cunt and lapped it up as it was on the verge of a drought, curved into a soft smile as he looked at you. Fuck. The words that had rumbled through the thick air of his office… 

**_You’re mine now, got it?_ **

And while your steps were minuscule and short, you felt like you were going millions of miles to get to him. Shortly, he was in front of you, situated against his desk with arms crossed. The action itself is enough to send you back on your knees. However, the way his sweater hugged his arms… Jesus fucking Christ.

“Close the door, will you?”

The demand itself brings you out of your reverie. Your eyes once again realizing the Adonis that Professor Isaac was. And as the door clicked shut, silence danced its way in.

When you look up at him, courage painted into the pupils of your eyes, you find his to be tired, grey, but tempting. Much like the devil, you want to give yourself to him. 

“How are you?” The question is one you don’t expect but yet somehow, the way his voice is hoarse makes warmth seep in between your legs. “It seems like you’ve been studying. Don’t know what I would do with you this time if you hadn’t.”

_ This time… There’ll be more? _

“I have, actually.” You say it with such confidence and genuine because you have. Practically spend yourself this whole week just to get this thesis finished. And with the way he smiled, you knew the lack of sleep had worked off.

He turned his head, his hand attempting to look for something before he found it. “ _ I know _ .” His smile returned, this time he had your papers in his hand. A big fat 99% circled with red bleeding ink. 

You grinned, genuinely shocked and proud of yourself so simple accomplishing such an assignment that was worth 30 percent of your grade. “See, I told you that you just needed that extra push.”

You flushed at his words. It’s not explicit but it feels too much of an information for him to speak. The extra push being his dick balls deep inside your cunt while he practically railed you raw. And it had seemed that he was thinking of the same thing as when you peered up, his grin was no longer innocent - if we’re being honest; it never was.

“And call me traditional but I believe good girls like you deserve a reward. Don’t you think?”

“Sir - I don’t -  _ Fuck _ .”

He raised a brow at you. Sending you chills all over.

“What was that, princess?”

He began taking steps towards you, small but with every bit, he got closer and closer. Shortly, he towered over you with pride. A finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to him. “We oughta do something with this pretty little mouth, huh?”

You watched as his eyes dropped from your gaze to your chest, checking out of the bust of your dress that hugged every curve. “Jesus, Y/n. You’re a menace, you know that?”

A grin. Then a shrug. Causing the professor to growl as he cornered you against his desk. Eliciting a gasp from you when you felt his hand creep against your thigh. “Slut.  _ You’re not _ \- You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

“All day, sir.” You confessed, feeling the confession sliding off your tongue with such a honeysuckle taste. It felt good. To know he wanted you as much you wanted him. And he was clear with that when he dragged his hand up, cupping your wet bare cunt. “Fuck.”

He gave you a tsk, shook his head before pausing. Almost thinking of what to do next. However, when he pulled his slick fingers away, plunged them into his mouth with a moan, you felt the need to hold the edge of his desk for support.

“Sir… Please.”

His brow raised. “ _ Please _ what?”

You blushed at the way he asked you. Wanting you to beg like the bitch in heat that you were. You bit your lip, bat your eyes away from him before he gripped your cheek and forced your gaze. “Please what, Y/n?”

“Fuck me, Professor. Fuck my cunt.”

And there it was. That goddamn grin. The calm before the storm before he had your back pressed against the desk, mouth desperately latched on to yours with a tongue shoved in. Fuck, this man knew how kiss a mouth.

With his mouth occupying yours, his hand reached beneath the comfort of your dress and felt your bare cunt weep with arousal. You were wet. That was an understatement as you were practically leaking down your thighs and into your professor’s hand. But that didn’t stop him, that urged him on as he barely even hesitated to shove two fingers, knuckles deep.

A loud whine erupting from your mouth, he swallows it willingly and even grins when he pulls away the slightest. “That’s my good girl.”

He watches as your face contorts so willingly to the feeling of his fingers curled up inside. A thumb pressed to your swollen clit, rubbing while he fingered you incessantly, you cried his name once again in need of an orgasm. However, Oscar shook his head and dragged his mouth against your pulse and nipped the sensitive skin there—even sucked a spot that, with no doubt, would leave screaming purple marks.

He said nothing as his mouth dipped further. Your breast falling apart from the confines of your bra, he becomes impatient as he tugs them free. Your nipple soon captured in the warmth of his tongue and lips, your moan loudly echoes the office. 

Only then, there, you needed to come—he pulled away. Your cunt aching, sopping, and swollen, but empty. Where Oscar’s fingers were once, you were twitching where you laid on his desk, whining his name.

“No-  _ No _ , please, sir. Just—”

“Look at you,  _ cariña _ . Begging… What was that?” He watched as your eyes glossed over with tears, a pout present to your lips as you begged his name once again. Simply, Oscar did nothing. He just stood there between parted legs and grinned—maybe even trailed a finger over your pebbled nipple but that was it. He wanted to hear you beg again. Something about the way a whine fell from your honey lips, heavens, it sent all the blood rushing to his cock. 

You shook your head, even reached out for the hand groping at your tits and took a slender finger into your slick mouth. “ _ Pwease _ , sir. Want you to fuck me like you did the other day.”

His smile widened. A brow raised. “ _ Yeah? _ Mmh… Since my pretty girl asked so nicely  _ and _ she did well on her assignment. It’s only fair, I guess.”

Watching as your face brightens, he chuckled at the sight before his fingers left your mouth—soaked wet, he rubbed the finger against your nipple and pressed. A soft mewl fell and he pulled away, reaching for the buckles of his belt just as to let himself free from the confines of his jeans.

As the denim fell and pooled around his ankles, he freed himself from his boxers—already leaking, head swollen purple, he didn’t waste a second pressing himself against you. Jesus, you had been already so wet that the simple push had him a tip inside. And it had him groaning out as he pushed even further—finally bottoming out inside of you, balls deep till he could genuinely see a bulge from your stomach.

“Sir…”

His eyes closed, a groan came from him as he held your hips tight enough to leave bruises. “I know,  _ querida _ . Fuck, Jesus, Y/n.”

He reached for the hands fisting his shirt, peeling them away from him as he held your hands up above your head. Keeping you in place with one hand, while the other held you flush against him. He took a fresh moment, reeling in the warm feeling of you, wrapped so graciously like vice around him, heaving with anticipation.

He had to move soon, he knew that. He had to with the way he himself was practically aching woth need to fuck into you. He just needed a moment to compose himself and take a mental picture of the way your face was flushed, eyes heavy with arousal. It was all too much. 

So as he dragged himself out, slow as to tease the fucking he was going to give you, his eyes darted up to your face and found your mouth parted. And just like that, he slammed right back in, harsh thrusts, his skin slapped against yours with a hiss while you moaned like a bitch in heat.

He was fuming. His pent up desperation, all being put into the energy of fucking you. The hilt of you touching his cock, welcoming him in you with no complaints except for the cries of his name that echoed like music in the room. It was almost brutal, to see you cry out like this, out of pleasure as his hips rammed into yours with no care for the world. But the two of you knew better. This felt better than any pain combined as your professor took the hand from your hip and wrapped them around your throat.

Almost sinister, he grinned and leaned his mouth over your ear. An undeniable shiver running through your body, your lip stuck between teeth in an attempt to hold the gasps at bay. “ _ Fucking shit _ , princess. Y- You feel so so good.”

You could even barely answer him, instead, you replied with a mewl and bucked your hips against his in order to return the gesture with anything. You couldn’t answer him, with your throat closed, squeezed in pleasure. It was all you could do. 

Hell, even Oscar laughed at your attempt, bit the lobe of your ear in return and just right after, a gutted moan left his mouth—loud and explicit. And if someone were to walk in, catch him railing into his student with no care or remorse, sure, he may get fired, but fucking god, he’d be a liar if he didn’t say it would be worth it. Fucking you like this, all morals gone as his cock ravaged your insides.

“Sir -  _ Fuck _ . I - Need to…” You want to tell him how desperate you’ve become. But your voice shows him that too well. A combination of unease, shakiness, and gasping, your mouth parts open to attempt again. Instead, nothing. Well, except for the loud gutted moan that leaves. Aside from that, well, you were brainless for the life of it. Just a babbling drooling mess, that’s when you knew he had finally thoroughly fucked you through.

He had taken pleasure in making you cum the first time. But now? He’s taking the pleasure in himself. Using you like a toy. Like the whore, slut, whatever names he could inherently come up with on the spot as he too lost himself in pleasure of your cunt. Oscar won’t admit it, his pride is too much of a constant in his life, but Jesus, you’ve really done a number on him.

Sure, maybe he’s fucked some others just so they can raise their grade. But this? This was inherently different from the other fucks he had. It’s rough, passionate. It stirs something deep in his stomach, turmoil and guilt. Perhaps even something that he’s not familiar with. Even then, true to his words, he’ll ponder it the next time he’s balls deep in your pussy. Probably the next time where he’s shown you care and thought instead of ravaging you like some man deprived of sex in a brothel.

Right now, he’s got a finger right against your clit. Pressed gently but firmly as small circles are rubbed against you, your mouth parts with a silent scream. That itself, the bubble that built in the pits of your stomach, aching and bursting as your whole body convulses with the orgasm Oscar had been pulling. 

If only then, your mouth wasn’t occupied by your own teacher’s, surely, your cries would’ve alerted any ongoing students. Even then, if you had found the care, you wouldn’t give a single shit. Perhaps, even yelled his name louder if that had meant claiming Oscar as your own—that he fucked you, that he fucked you until you genuinely, sickeningly, couldn’t speak anymore.

Even then, in the right state of mind, you would want more. Settled in the comfort of a bed—preferably his, he would take you there just like he is right now.

You're only brought out of your reverie when Oscar tugs on your neck, pulling you the slightest inch up from the desk only to shove you back with intensity that brings ache to your spine. There’s a prominent furrow to his brows right now. Concentrated as he growls, Jesus, fuck, you can feel him. Hes throbbing, needing his orgasm and with just one more—

“—gonna cum.” It’s slurred, moaned. Unfiltered as he announces his climax just as his hips still inside with a groan. Then just like that, tethering between a state of consciousness and passing out, you feel him fill every inch of your inside. The hand on your throat not helping with the fine line between your state of consciousness of the moment. You just feel him and it almost feels like a dream—that you had imagined your professor fucking you out of a reward for simply doing well on a goddamn assignment.

But even then, he slips you out of that thought as he slips his cock out of you with ease. His cum disgustingly oozing out of your cunt, the realization hits you that,  _ fuck _ , he had came in you but how much, that it had spilled out of you like a broken dam. 

You couldn’t even phantom the idea of it right now. Hell, you must look like a fucked mess with your legs spread and his cum spilling out. Surely, he’s tired and thoroughly down with you right?  _ Nah _ , to him, he needed more. 

And as he inched back towards you, just enough so he can kiss your open mouth, he pulls back again and drags his tongue further down to where— _ there _ , your cunt where he laps up his own finish, the sound of slurping and squelching echoing loudly in your ear; only to remind you that  _ this _ , wasn’t a dream at all.

He draws you to another line of your orgasm, overstimulated and sensitive, your clit hisses with the scratches of his beard. He doesn’t stop until he pulls another one— _ and another one _ , and another one until you’re practically crying and shaking.

Only then, he pulls away and brings you to his chest. The sound of his heart beats loudly against your ear as you cry to his shirt. The smallest of hiccups muffled, while your body jerks with every sound. 

Once again, he reassures you. “Good girl.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar and you celebrate an occasion. Oh, and he shaved his beard.

His hands are calloused, firm, yet ever so gentle and soft as they’re wrapped like beautiful ribbon around your throat. The gentle ease of his squeeze returns you from your dazed daydream, your eyes heavy when you peer up at him.

“What was that?” His tone carried some eagerness, some dominance. A teasing tone to it, knowing the older man knew of where he stood with you. Your teacher, your professor, yes, but somewhere deep between the line from professional and a man, he stood with a leg between both. 

Where he stands with both feet? You couldn’t care less, especially with the way he held your face with his other hand. The action itself makes you smile, much less apprehensive but much more submissive. 

And finally, after what felt like moments, you breathed out a: “You shaved.” Much more a statement, though it was laced with distaste and pleasure as you inched your eyes closer to every bare skin of his cheek. 

_ Jesus, this man was gorgeous. _

The man in front of you took it nonetheless as his lips quirked up an inch and he hummed with curiosity, as if he were trying to think of that of your opinion. Though, it didn’t matter to him truly knowing the effect he had on you regardless he had a beard or not.

But he turned his eyes back to you, ever intimidating but a wondering pair, you await for his reply. After a moment that felt like decades, he frowned.  _ Wait what’s wrong? _ “Do you not like it?”

Your eyes became wide, fear and confusion rushes through like light. “What? A - Hah! Are _ you kidding? _ Fuck, sir, you have no clue what you do to me, do you?” You hummed when you felt his hand tighten around your neck. Your hand reaching up in a desperate need to grip something,  _ anything _ . “Mmh,- Oh, fuck. I love it.  _ Every _ inch of it. And if only…”

His brows quirked up just as with his lips. “Only if what, princess?”

You felt his hard muscles under the warmth of his sweater, firm yet soft if you were ever to cuddle his chest, you breathed out a heavy moan. The feeling of his hand, warm and large, codling the sides of your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed on instinct as he squeezed once again. “Only if I could  _ feel _ to compare.”

And as his eyes darken, heavy and grey, you smiled knowing that this, everything about your offer, everything about your affair was more of a turn on than anything else. “Yeah? And where would that be?” And with a hand across your bottom lip, rubbing sweetly against your skin, a flush blossom across your cheeks in embarrassment. “C’mon, pretty girl,  _ think _ .  _ Where _ would you like to feel it?”

You could hardly breath at this point. With the wandering hand that fell from your cheek to the slit of your dress that bared your thighs to him, to the squeezing fingers around your throat, your professor was going to fucking kill you. And if not, he would probably kill you when he fucks you. “Sir… That’s not fair.”

He mocked your frown, chuckling when he heard the faint whimper fall desperately from your lips as his fingers finally slipped under your dress. “Baby, nobody said any of this was gonna be fair. So, now, be a good girl, tell me what you want me to do. You want fingers?” He leaned close, his mouth near your ear and you felt his breath, hot, warm, fan over your cheek. “Or you want my mouth?”

You felt cold, sharp, stinging coldness on the back of your thighs as Oscar’s ring clad fingers touched what was pretty much your ass. He gave them a good squeeze, eyes situated on you and only you as you moaned his name in a desperate attempt. 

His brows arched as the moment passed and all he got was a whimper of his name as you grew wetter. “Well? I’m not waiting all day,  _ mi amor _ .”

But you shook your head, refusing to let him go as your hands clawed at his expensive suit. “No, please. Just touch me, use your fingers, mouth, cock. Please, anything. I don’t care.”

And just like that, that given, explicit permission, his lips quirked into a smile and his hand pushed against your neck. Thankful that you were in his home, he laid you against the clear surface of his table, back laid against, your dress significantly rode up to your hips and you were sure you were giving your professor an eyeful of your sopping wet underwear.

In all honesty, you expected him to fuck you, ravage you like a man in heat, with no care, no morals. Yet, instead, unprepared, he drew your gaze up and you found a holding look in his eyes. Warm, inviting, he drew soft circles against your cheek.

And just for a moment, you saw him as a man, as your lover. Not the man who taught you for a whole semester, but someone you possibly have feelings, underlying and undeniable emotions for. A thought, sure, but it’s one that terrified you. You kept your gaze, found his and only his, and in your heart, yes, you found comfort.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He paused, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip then once again, he spoke. “And you’re mine, aren’t you, baby?”

His free hand disappeared from your neck, unbeknownst to you, they found comfort to where the band of your underwear laid quiet and still. Your stomach heaving up and down with your chest, even with the scorching touch of his finger against your clothed clit, your gaze never left. Instead, you spoke kindly and quietly, owning yourself to him. 

“Only yours, sir.” You tell him, moaning out another whisper of his name when he fingered harder. He smiled at the confession, feeling true content at the words that fell and once again, many fucks ago, he felt that shame and guilt for corrupting such a relationship with his student. 

But that was overcome with the sound of your mewls as you gushed over his hand, overstimulated from both his fingers and mouth. 

“Oh, my  _ pretty girl. _ Look at the mess you’ve made. Such a frail little thing aren’t you,  _ mi amor? _ ” He nuzzled his nose gently against your cheek, a soft inhale of your scent filled his lungs, and ever so slightly he sighed in content. His heart ached, thumped loudly in return and he felt nothing but ease in the moment. 

His own mouth moved, a kiss to your cheek, “ _ Tienes mi corazón, _ ” another to your jaw, “ _ cuerpo y alma, mi amor. _ ”

You hummed in return, unaware of the words he had spoken in such haste. Yet, unbeknownst of the foreign language, you managed to open your eyes in such a daze that made Oscar laugh in return. “Y’think you have another in you?”

A grin blossomed over your lips as you dragged a finger over his cheek, a teasing giggle falling like honey as you reeled in the way he smiled. “If I didn’t, we would have never been here,  _ sir _ .” You attempted to speak again, but the man hooked a finger to where your drenched underwear laid—tugged with a harsh touch until it fell and pooled by his floor. 

You tried to continue your conversation with the man, giggling as he kissed your nose, but the finger that plunged inside of your heat unwarranted made it more difficult than it needed to be. 

Yet, every time he touched you, every time he  _ kissed _ ,  _ grip _ ,  _ fucked _ , it had felt like that very first time in his office. Sensations of euphoria scattered, some of guilt, some of relief. All you knew, Oscar made you feel at ease, whether the two of you fucked like savages in his office, car, and home, or when he would help you study for other classes other than his.

Suddenly, your eyes felt heavy, the alcohol you had drank tonight finally circulating through your wrecked body and easing you to sleep. 

Oscar sought out your eyes, your gaze warm but they were falling. And as he nudged his nose against yours, fingers still moving to their accord, he saw your eyes open with ease. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

Your eyes found his, a smile blossoming so easily on your lips and he kissed them in return. A taste of your tongue, he slips inside before teasing your own in a heated dance. You moan loudly into his mouth, no care or morals for the well-being of sleep for his neighbours.

With you being is near, another orgasm reaching, your lover’s eyes recharge below but he can feel every throb and grip that edged you. Your mouth parted even wider, gasping air, on the verge to—what the fuck.

You looked at him wide eyed, a cross of confusion and anger written in the iris of your eyes; wondering, how given this man the audacity to deny you of orgasm. Clearly, Oscar sought out that question and had his answers prepared as he kissed down your body.

“If you stay awake enough to get my dick inside of you, I’ll fuck you to sleep. Get your mouth begging my name while you babble like some bitch, huh? How about that?” 

Well. Okay, that sounded tempting. To wake up on the verge of an orgasm, his dick buried deep inside of you while your body rattled with every thrust. Now, that sounded good. Pleasant, if you must.

With Oscar’s mouth dragging against your skin, he only stopped until he was met with your pubic bone. Bare to him, you felt the hot breath against your parted lips. Your clit bare, swollen and puffy, pulled apart just for show by him, the man didn’t hesitate to get his mouth wrapped around your bud in an attempt to draw out your third orgasm. 

“Please, sir. Just want you—” You threw your head back as it fell off the table, gasping moans leaving your mouth as Oscar devours every inch of you being. Your whisper of his name, soft and sweet, yet he was busy ravaging you with his mouth. 

Drawing you ever so close, just enough that you felt it on the edge of his tongue so he could pull it away—a tease, this man. You whined incessantly, your groans becoming slurred as slumber threatens once again. But you feel him, prominent against your thigh while his hand gripped your cheek.

“Red?”

You shook your head and he smiled.

“ _ Good girl. _ ”

You felt him groan on top of you, grounded himself and let out a whisper of your name. So faint that if you weren’t the tad bit conscious, you wouldn’t have heard it. 

A moment passes, another one, you think, as by the time he fucks himself into you, you hadn’t even remembered him taking off his pants. Though, you wouldn’t dare to stop him, you were so insanely close to feeling him—every throbbing inch of him, deep and sheathed inside you.

You called his name pathetically, a slur in your words. “Sir…?” 

He pushed your knees up and against your chest, bare you even more as his eyes gaze down to where the two of you are connected. His hand tugging at your chin, “Look at it.”

You simply let out a whine. Oscar didn’t take it too kindly as his grip tightened and you squeaked. Your eyes wide and your mouth parted, small little gasps leaving as Oscar circled a thumb over your clit.

“I said,  _ look at it _ .” That you do as you see him inching in and out of your cunt. Slick and wet, it’s what you hear as he rails into you. “Do you see how hard your little button is, baby? All for  _ daddy _ , huh?”

You moan like a bitch at the way he mentions the name. Certainly pleased by your response, a smile lines his lips. “ _ Yeah?  _ Can see your little pussy swallowing my dick,  _ so so well. _ ” He praises as a hand pushes at your dress, palming your tits under.

You claw at his shirt, desperately gripping at the soft fabric as you buck your hips against him. Moving in a way where it digs him deep into and causes him to curse your name loud. 

“I’m gonna cum, sir.” Your eyes glaze with tears. “Can I cum, daddy? Please, oh,  _ please _ .”

Oscar drew a finger into your mouth, the taste of bittersweet and something of him fills your tongue. Surely he must be loving this. The way you’re laid for him, little fucked out while he continues his thrust—sloppy but fast. 

The man is an enigma while he says your name, gently and kindly as contrasting to his actions. Your mouth parting just enough to say his name, chains of oh my gods and oh daddy please, ever so present into his ears.

Soon enough, you felt the throb inside you. Aching as even with the many times you’ve fucked this man, he has always seemed to stretch you to your limits. “Look at me now. Wanna see your pretty little eyes while I fuck you.”

You moaned his name, gasping as you felt the orgasm wash over you unexpected. It had been so sudden, such little force even that as Oscar moved, you shook in euphoria at the feeling. The man on top of you groaned against your neck, his breathing heavy and hot as he finished with you.

Suddenly, everything was a blur. As if time has passed your orgasms settled but your grip on your lover didn’t. Only tightened as Oscar held you closer to him in an effort to pull sweaty bodies close.

Perhaps you heard him mumble something, surely you were too fucked to care or understand, but he reiterated it for you. “My sweet little girl. You did so well, baby.”

You smiled, lazily and you felt his fingers rub course over your pebble nipple. “Thank you, sir.”

But then he’s pulling away once again. There, through heavy eyes, you catch a glimpse of his flushed face and red bitten lips. He leans to kiss your lips, sweet nothings come rushing as you whimper against his mouth.

You feel his hand, soft and gentle, with a thumb across your cheek, his mouth drags back to where your ear is. 

“ _ Happy birthday, mi amor _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mi amor — My love
> 
> Tienes mi corazón, cuerpo y alma, mi amor —You have my heart, body and soul, my love


End file.
